Ch-31.2: Curtain-up
171 0 8
X
Reading Options
Font Size
A- 15px A+
Width
Reset
X
Table of Contents
Loading... please wait.

Raesh knew about the metal called ‘White iron’. His master had another name for it; he called it a headache. His master always told Noor’s father he would do anything if he were spared the headache. He was the only smith in the workshop who had could deny t. Raesh had always wondered why his master even worked for Noor’s father since he could have opened his shop anywhere and it would be just as popular. He had asked his master a number of times and the man had always told him the same thing, ‘I hope you find out one day.’

As for the metal, it wasn’t an alloy; there was nothing added to it to make it better, harder, ductile. The metal didn’t rust and it was lighter in weight than iron. Many scholars first believed it would completely replace iron in the future.

Yet, Iron had proved its timelessness, as the world still preferred it to the supposed metal of the future. Iron was simply too easy to use. It was so easy to forge and mold, even a jobless person could do it.

White iron, on the other hand, was difficult to process and impossible to work with. It was impossible to make the fire hot enough to heat the metal without special furnaces. Only true master blacksmiths had the strength to shape it.

Moreover, there was only one known mine in the Empire that produced the ore, and it was near the mana crystal caves of the No man’s land. Only a few tons of it was mined every year because of no practical demand.
Combine geographical challenges, transportation costs, levies, low availability, and high skill requirement, and the metal was more expensive than Gold, multiple folds expensive in some places.

Of what Raesh knew, the metal was not very popular with the Nobles either. It couldn’t replace gold as standard jewelry because the aristocratic women didn’t like its ashen white color. While the men showed no interest in expensive swords forged from the metal. The only specimen ever forged was an Emperor's sword crafted to hang from the Emperor's waist. That’s when the name ‘white iron’ started circulating among the commoners, who called it that in ridicule and used it in synonym for useless and overhyped. The metal, named after its finder, was called starlight at first, but it earned it got its popularity as White iron, the useless metal.

Obviously, the Emperor didn’t want to be associated with useless and exchanged the chalk-white sword for another gilded, diamond, and gem-studded sword. The Emperor's sword unofficially named the ‘White phoenix’ was thrown into the royal treasury and its existence was forgotten.

This was the kind of metal Mannat wanted to create.

Raesh would have never had such an overbearing thought in his lifetime. He adored Mannat for his enthusiasm. He didn’t want to rain on Mannat’s parade, but the boy was wrong, and it was his duty as Mannat’s father to tell clarify his misunderstanding.

“White iron is a naturally occurring metal son; it is not an alloy. It might have Iron in its name, but I don’t think it can be smelted from iron.”

Mannat nodded once or twice in enthusiasm and then asked a question that had nothing to do with their previous topic. 
“Do you know how I get the bell peppers growing in the Witch’s garden?”
“You cut them with a knife?” Raesh said, which made Mannat chuckle.
“I thought so too. Bu the Witch’s garden is special. The vegetables die if you directly harvest them. They rot in a matter of seconds and shrink to the size of an egg and then pop like a bubble.”

Raesh’s had a tough time believing Mannat, and his frown said it all. Mannat continued fervently. “The only way to harvest the vegetables is by pouring mana into the vegetable and forcing mana inside it to crystallize.”

He noticed his father’s daze and decided to cut to the chase. Not everyone was interested in knowing how magic worked. “Anyway, I want to try the same thing with an ingot. I don’t think we’ll create ‘White iron’, mind me.” Mannat shook his hands to be conservative, “I just think the result will be just as interesting as the other metal.”

Mannat waited for his Fathers reaction, and it came slightly disappointing.
“Let me think about it,” Raesh said. “And give me the ingot. It’s going to burn in the furnace.”

Mannat had completely forgotten about that. Cold sweat slid down his fire-baked back as he faced the furnace with vigilance. The furnace was working fine. The fire was ragging and the block of iron was red hot. He picked it up with his tong, brought it out, and carefully placed it on the anvil. He stepped back as his father controlled the humming ingot of iron and started hammering. Mannat watched sparks fly off the bock with every hammer strike. He had left the block in the furnace for too long. The sparks were the flakes of metal that had burnt.

Raesh squeezed a coin-sized lump out of the block, but didn’t separate the two and let them cool off. The metal was too excited. The result of working on it would be a brittle mess that would break upon a fall.
He asked Mannat instead, “Will it be dangerous -- your idea that is?”Raesh was after all his father. Mannat’s safety worried him more than the success of the idea he had proposed.
 
Mannat jolted up to his toes in surprise. “I don’t know,” he said. His feet might have fallen flat again, but his mood hadn’t. “I’ll be more surprised if something does happen.” The words sounded insincere because his eyes were burning with passion. Let’s do it, they were saying.

“How confident are you?” Raesh said bringing his hammer lightly upon the lump.
A short metallic ring burst from the anvil as Mannat answered, “Not much,”

He wasn’t being conservative. He knew the principle behind the skill in both theory and practice.
“I’ve been practicing the skill on Bell peppers, and it’s not easy to improve.” He heard his father chuckle and couldn’t help looking over. “What is it?” He asked sharply.

Raesh could hear the accusation in Mannat’s voice and explained his thoughts to clear the misunderstanding. Both of them had learned their lesson. They understood that a misunderstanding was like a hidden infection -- you never know when it might spread and bring you to death’s door.

“Don’t look so serious. Your mother would think I was bullying you.” Raesh said. “It’s just that I have never heard of anyone training with bell peppers to improve their skills. First, the Witch had you pull a carrot from the garden, now she’s at it again and is making you do an even weirder thing in the name of practice. The villagers will mock you if they heard, and call you a fool. Don’t tell anyone if you don’t want to be named the Witch’s gardener; they won’t mean it in a literal way.”
 
Mannat heard. He knew his father was hinting at something, but he couldn’t quite figure it out. The answer was too cryptic. He could only shrug his shoulders and admit defeat.

“It really does sound silly.” He agreed.
“Doesn’t it? Anyways,” Raesh said, “Seems like a lot of fun, playing with vegetables that is.”
“No way,” Mannat said picking the block of iron from the anvil and throwing it into the furnace for baking. “It’s grueling difficult. I can barely control the force of my mana. Sometimes I lose control and vegetables simply explode on my face—“

Mannat had just spoken the words when his father’s hammer struck down like lightning. It missed the lump of metal and banged upon the anvil with such a gruesome intensity that the anvil screamed out an ear shredding squeal. Mannat cringed away and covered his ears. The anvil's cries echoed around the two for a while before slowly disappearing, but Mannat could still hear the anvil buzzing afterward. Perhaps, it was just his ears. He couldn’t quite differentiate the two from each other.
He hurriedly looked back when the ringing abated and saw his father staring back at him. A cloud of confusion covered his face and a fire burned in his eyes.

“Father, what happened?” Mannat asked in worry, only for Raesh to look at him with profound seriousness and ask back in a grave tone of voice, “Do the explosions happen often?”

Mannat didn’t dare be lax with his reply. His father looked intimidating when he stood straight with a tong in one hand and the hammer in the other, while a fire lit one side of his face in a demonic red light and alive shadows completely drenched the other half of his face in menacing darkness.

“It only happens when I lose control over my mana,” Mannat explained. He didn’t want another misunderstanding to develop between them like the last time with the kiss. “The skill called ‘mana strike’ allows me to fire a burst of mana. The Witch’s teaching me to control the force behind the mana discharge. It’s not easy, but I‘m trying. Only when I have complete control over the skill can I help mother.” He rapped out word after word until he had nothing more to add to his defense.

He had sensed his father’s building emotions from the small amount of mana that naturally leaked out of him. He didn’t sense anger, but fear and vigilance. It could be that he was wrong. His ability to read emotions was not as absolute as the Witch, after all. He could only detect one shade of blue from the sea of colors that surrounded him.

Perhaps, Raesh understood what Mannat meant or he noticed Mannat’s growing agitation because the momentum growing inside him whittled until it stopped turning. He exhaled a loud breath and asked Mannat, “Did I scare you?”
“You did,” Mannat said honestly.
“I was scared too,” Raesh said keeping eye contact. “I still am.”
“Why?”

Raesh eyes shifted to the furnace behind Mannat. He spoke calmly, with no anger or dissatisfaction in his voice but the worry of a parent whose son didn’t understand his strength. “Do you think it’s possible, that the furnace exploded because you lost control over your mana?”

“That’s not -- true,” Mannat said, but neither was there any strength in his voice, nor any confidence in the words. He tried remembering that day, but he had been in a daze and it had happened all too suddenly. He only remembered his father’s relieved eyes before the fireball engulfed him.

Raesh wasn’t convinced. “What if it is true? What happens when you lose control again… and someone dies? No one will believe that it was a mistake.”
Raesh thought Mannat would stubbornly contest, but the boy surprised him again. Guess, he was still underestimating him.

“Then what should I do?” Mannat said. “Hypothetically considering that I was the cause of the explosion.”

“Hypothetically,” Raesh said and couldn’t help smiling when Mannat’s cheeks grew a touch of red. "As your father, I would ask you to drop everything and come back home.” Mannat wasn’t swayed and quietly waited for Raesh to finish. “But as your master, I ask you to work harder and live a life of no regrets. Believe in yourself and keep looking forward. I want you to be proud of yourself when you look back into your past.”

Mannat froze where he stood with his mouth open. He could not express his feelings. “I understand.” all he could say.

“Good,” Raesh said. There was a long pause and Raesh thought it would be bad to leave things as they stood.
“Say,” He got Mannat’s attention. “Do you want to try your trick and see what happens?”

As if a weight lifted off Mannat’s shoulders, his back straightened and he nodded with a glint of excitement in his eyes.

Obviously, they didn’t’ dive right into it, but waited until noon. Of course, Mannat tried and Raesh anxiously stood beside him not knowing what to expect. They shared a look and Mannat put his hand on the ingot. His mana moved, gathered at the pal, and dispersed at his command. It moved at his will and bounced away from the iron.
He failed.
His mana was too dispersed and weak; it couldn’t find a way into the iron’s solid structure.

He only gave it one shot and didn’t waste too much mana on the conjecture. He failed to produce a result and decided to wait until the skill reached level five before trying again.

“That’s a shame. I wanted to see something happen.” Raesh said when Mannat told him the truth. The regret was mutual.

He finished up soon and directly left for the clearing.

He hoped his control over the skill and the force behind it would be enough to pierce iron at level five. He would also have a lot of leeway at that point, as he wouldn’t be limited by the number of times he could use the skill. ‘Mana strike’ might already be level two, but the number of times he could use the skill was still only four.
Time was the only limiting factor in his plan. At the pace he was practicing, it might take him a few years to get it to level five. At least ‘Meditation’ was growing up quickly. He felt the skill would reach level three soon. It was only a matter of days. If only mana strike was also a passive skill. Of course, then it might also have been useless.

The thoughts filled Mannat’s mind as he ran down the road leading to the clearing. He was still away from his destination. His mind was full and his heart was empty. He was running down in his rhythm when he sensed something hiding behind the roadside bushes. His senses were still not sharp enough to be useful in clutch matters.

Everything happened too fast. By the time he sensed their presence, it was already too late. Three boys rushed out of hiding and jumped at him. The tallest among them hugged Mannat and took him down to the ground.

Mannat’s world turned upside down as his feet left the ground. He felt weightless and the wind screamed into his ear as he fell back. His head banged hard against the dirt road, and the impact knocked him out cold.

8